


Shadowed

by CatHeights



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatHeights/pseuds/CatHeights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is shadowing the Green Arrow, and Chloe's determined to uncover the identity of his mysterious stalker. Written for dhfreak's Banner Prompt Challenge. Set in Season 9, sometime after <i>Warrior</i> but before <i>Conspiracy</i>. The awesome banner dhfreak designed as my prompt can be viewed <a href="http://catheights.popullus.net/SV_Images/chlollie-banner-by-dhfreak.png">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Oliver walks down the alley. His steps are nearly silent. He watches a kid trying to break into the back entrance of a small pizza shop. "Somehow I don't think you locked yourself out."

The kid spins around and his mouth drops open. "The Green Arrow. Oh God. I...I'm sorry." He looks at the ground, and his voice is shaking. "I was hungry."

Christ, the kid can't be more than 14, and he looks terrified. "Maybe I can...."

He never gets to finish his sentence as a blow to his head brings him to his knees. The world blurs for a second, the ground seeming to rise up before everything shifts back into focus. Oliver comes to his knees and then stumbles to his feet. He looks around. The alley is empty.

"Damn it."

The kid must have had an accomplice, might even have been part of one of the local gangs. How did he miss the sound of someone sneaking up on him? Oliver shakes his head, and a wave of dizziness assaults him, but it quickly subsides. Maybe he should call it a night and head back to Watchtower. Nah, he's taken worse knocks.

While the rest of the evening's patrol is uneventful, he can't shake the annoyance he feels over letting his guard down. However, Chloe's wide smile as he enters Watchtower is the perfect cure for his gloomy mood.

"Impeccable timing as always, Arrow. Slipping in right beneath dawn's nose." She steps out from behind the computer. "How'd it go?"

Oliver shrugs. No point in harping on mistakes, and he can think of much better things to do with Chloe than dissecting a momentary lapse in concentration. "I've had worse nights." He walks over and gives her a quick kiss. "Let me get cleaned up, and I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

"I'll make sure to get cleaned up Impulse speed."

Her laughter follows him as he heads up to the bathroom. When he steps into the shower, he's smiling. The water feels good, washing away any lingering vestiges of the night. However, as he's turning off the shower, he notices blood spiraling down the drain. He must have bled when he was clobbered. Oliver puts his hand to his head. A small trace of blood comes off on one finger. The water must have reopened a cut. As he steps out of the shower, he's still gingerly touching his head. It burns a bit now. Funny, it hadn't bothered him all night.

Chloe's waiting for him. "Thought I'd stop by for the show." Her grin quickly changes into a frown. "Are you hurt?"

"It's nothing." He dries off and then puts an arm around her waist, pulling her against him and smiling as her hands immediately trail down his naked back. "How about we head into the bedroom, and I give you even more of a show?"

"Let me check out your head first."

Annoyed Oliver steps out of the embrace. "I said it's fine." He walks past her and heads into the bedroom.

She follows hot on his heels. "I'll be the judge of that." Chloe puts a hand against his chest and pushes lightly so that he ends up sitting on the bed.

"God, you're pushy, Sidekick." She straddles his leg, and as she leans down to look at his head, he can't resist sliding a hand beneath her shirt. It's not like there's any reason to resist. After all, she is straddling him. "You know, it's not that I mind being shoved onto the bed by you. That sounds like the start to a fun night. I'd just prefer a little less glaring seriousness and a lot more nudity."

After a second Chloe steps back, shaking her head. From the look on her face, Oliver can tell she agrees the cut is no big deal. She raises an eyebrow. "More nudity, huh?" She pulls off her shirt, and she's wearing a lacey green bra, which makes Oliver grin. "How's this for a start?"

"Definitely moving in the right direction."

Chloe nudges his legs apart and stands between then. "So hot shot, how did it happen and why didn't you contact me?"

Oliver groans and leans his forehead against her stomach for a minute, before looking up to give her his best sheepish, what can I say, grin. "I got played by a gang kid giving me a sob story that he was just hungry. I let my guard down and got clobbered. Wasn't much of a hit, but it gave them enough time to flee. It was such a small incident, I didn't think it was worth bothering you about."

"Nice try." Chloe laughs. "Want to hear my diagnosis? Bruised ego."

"Ouch. So have you gotten enough humility out of me for one evening?"

"I think I've done pretty well. I might be willing to give it a rest for the night."

"That's good because I've got other ideas as to what to do with you for the rest of the night." He wraps an arm around her waist, lifts her and tosses her onto the bed, quickly moving up beside her. God, he loves her laughter.

"Nice moves." She runs her fingers along the inside of his arm. "So it was one of those nights that kept you on your toes?"

"Actually, not really, except for getting clobbered, it was pretty quiet."

Chloe sits up and gives him an odd look. "You were out a lot longer than normal."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oliver, the sun's coming up."

Stunned, he realizes she's right. The first light of dawn is beginning to trickle through the stained glass windows of Watchtower.

"Did you blackout when you were hit?"

"No." Oliver heads off her next round of questions. "And yes, I would know if I blacked out, and yes I would tell you. I must have just lost track of time brooding over my stupidity, so as you so expertly diagnosed, the only thing I really injured tonight was my ego."

Chloe looks doubtful for a second, but then she lies back down, placing her hand on his hip. "Well your ego is pretty good at bouncing back, so I'm sure it'll be a quick recovery."

"I have an idea on how you could make it an even quicker recovery?"

"Do tell."

"Lose the pants."

She undoes the button and pulls down the zipper on her pants, slowly sliding them past her hips. "Well, I'm always willing to do anything to help in a hero's recovery."


	2. Chapter 2

"Sorry I'm late. Lois's idea of packing light is bringing her entire closet." Chloe drops her purse on the table. "I had to help her trim things down, and by that I mean toss out 3/4 of what she was trying to bring. The Planet's one suitcase limit on this story is going to give her a meltdown. Then Clark showed up looking like Lois was leaving him for forever rather than two weeks. By the way, I think he's coming tonight."

Her chatter comes to a halt as she realizes Oliver hasn't said a word or even looked at her. He's staring at one of the computer monitors, frowning. When she steps behind him, she sees he's looking at a picture of himself from last night's patrol.

"Oliver?"

"Hmmmm."

"Isn't it my role to be distracted by data?"

"What?" Oliver looks over at her, an expression of confusion on his face.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure."

"Did you hear any of what I said?"

"Yeah, Lois can't pack. Clark is coming to dinner."

"What's so interesting about that capture from last night's patrol?"

Oliver closes the picture and turns from the computer. "Nothing. I was just passing time while I waited for you. Are you ready to go? We're supposed to meet John in 15 minutes."

The coldness in Oliver's tone throws Chloe for a loop. "Okay, easy, I need five minutes, and then we can head out."

He just nods, and Chloe heads off to get cleaned-up, annoyed. Is he really mad because she was few minutes late? That's the ultimate pot, kettle. When she returns, Oliver is looking at another screen capture from last night's patrol. All her internal warning bells go off. Something is very wrong.

"Okay, out with it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know I'm not stupid, and it really doesn't take a genius to figure out that something must have happened during last night's patrol."

Oliver rubs the back of his head. "Can we discuss this after dinner?"

"Ollie. What's going on?"

"It's nothing. Last night, I thought maybe someone was following me."

"And you're only mentioning this now." Chloe moves over to the keyboard, intent on bringing up the footage she has on the areas he patrolled last night.

Oliver halts her by grabbing her wrist. "I didn't mention it because I wasn't sure, and I'm still not sure. Can we please just go to dinner?"

"Well, let's make sure now. I'll call John and apologize. He'll understand."

"No." Oliver walks away from her, once again rubbing at the back of his head. "There's always going to be some reason not to do the simple things with our friends, the things that keep us real. It's only a few hours, Chloe, and then you can come back and mainline every ounce of data you have from last night. Besides, like I said, I'm not even sure I was being followed. So, let's go meet John and Clark for dinner."

She wants to snap back that every minute counts in something like this, and he's already wasted nearly a day by not telling her sooner, except Oliver's looking at her with a pleading expression, and she can see his exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders and the darkness beneath his eyes. He's been a bit off the last two days, and he was gone before she woke this morning. Although, she'd known he'd had a board meeting, so his absence wasn't surprising. Now she wonders how long before she woke did he leave. Did he get any sleep?

Despite her misgivings, she capitulates. "I guess waiting a few hours won't hurt. But no complaining later when you're ditched because I've got a hot date with a computer."

Oliver laughs. "Fair enough. Thanks."

As she grabs her purse and coat, she notices his posture is more relaxed. Obviously her agreement eased some of his tension. Still, he's unusually quiet on the walk over to the restaurant. Chloe wonders if he had another run-in with Mercer. There had been an incident a few days ago, but surely Oliver would have mentioned any new issues.

Dinner is a dismal affair. While Chloe has no doubt Oliver wanted to come and believes what he said earlier—they were all affected by their interactions with the JSA, Oliver and John the most—he's unable to focus on the conversation. Oliver is in his own world, as is Clark. She's not sure if Clark's distraction is because of Lois's absence or something to do with the Kandorians, and right now she doesn't care. Clark's backburnered for once. Right now Oliver needs her full attention, and he's going to get it.

During one of the many lulls in conversation, John gives her a look, obviously asking if she knows what's going on. She shrugs and resists the urge to sigh. Chloe wishes she could reach across the table and touch Oliver, but she doesn't feel comfortable doing so around Clark. She can see the irony in her reaction, as before they were sleeping together, she wouldn't have hesitated to touch him. It's not like they decided to keep their relationship a secret. It just seems to have happened that way. Perhaps it's some shared instinct guiding them to protect the newness and initial rush of being together, because it is a rush. Being with Oliver is a lot like flying. You're so high above it all that you can't get hung up in the details. For once, she's not analyzing, not questioning, she's just letting go. It's so easy with Oliver, and that should be frightening. If she was doing the thinking analyzing thing perhaps it might scare her, but sometimes it's better, more fun, to just jump.

No one orders dessert or coffee. In this instance, they're all smart enough to recognize a lost cause. On the way out Clark and Oliver are talking, and John touches her shoulder. She slows down and matches her pace to John's, allowing Clark and Oliver to drift ahead.

"Is everything all right?"

Chloe sighs. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Whatever it is, remember you are not alone. Let me know if you or Oliver need my assistance."

"Thanks John." She smiles. "I will."

John looks at Oliver and then back at her. He smiles. "This change is good."

She doesn't need to ask what he means. John sees the most of anyone she knows, so of course he'd notice about her and Oliver. "We'll see."

"I am sure."

They part ways out on the sidewalk. Oliver and her walk back to Watchtower in silence. Once inside, Oliver takes off his coat and sits on the couch. He holds out a hand in her direction. "Sorry I was such rotten company tonight."

She takes off her coat and puts her purse down, and then walks over to take his hand and sit next to him. "We'll figure it out." Chloe squeezes his fingers.

"Yeah, we will." Oliver puts a hand against the side of her face for a second, before turning his head to the side and yawning.

Chloe mentally debates suggesting he skip patrol tonight. It's dangerous for him to be out there when he's obviously exhausted. On the other hand, she'll be following his every move tonight, so she can call Clark for backup if there are issues. Plus, if the stalker returns, she'll be online to capture all the details. Still she'd really rather he took the night off, but is that an argument she has any chance of winning? She figures her chances are about as likely as getting an honest answer from a politician.

Oliver takes off his shoes and then moves further down on the couch so that he can rest his head in her lap. For a moment, the worries fade, and there's just this warm feeling in her chest. Running her hand through his hair seems like such a natural thing to do. "Comfortable?" she asks. Chloe knows the smile on her face probably looks ridiculously sappy, but she could care less.

The smile is short lived as Oliver doesn't respond. Her hand moves to rest on his shoulder, and she realizes he's already fallen asleep. He's obviously more exhausted than she'd thought. The urge to stay right where she is, watching him sleep, battles with the need to start sifting through data to find this stalker. Chloe's not sure how much time passes with her sitting there touching him, but it's long enough for her legs to start to fall asleep. She grabs a pillow, slides it beneath Oliver's head, and carefully moves out from beneath him.

Once she has the first search queued, she pauses to glance back at him. He's still sleeping, and hopefully when he wakes, she'll have some answers. The world narrows to streams of data, her brain parsing, analyzing, and discarding most of what she's seeing.

"You find anything?"

Chloe freezes, startled for a second. She hadn't heard him approach, which is something she's not sure she should blame on her focus or his ability to move so quietly. "Not yet. But trust me, I will."

He puts a hand on her hip and kisses the back of her neck. "I do trust you." The whisper of the words against her skin induces a pleasant shiver. Oliver steps back from her and puts his hands in his pockets. "And I should have said something about all of this sooner. It was just driving me nuts. Every step of the way last night, I thought I was being shadowed, and yet no trace of anyone being there."

"That's why you have me. If there's the smallest breadcrumb left behind, I'll find it."

Oliver laughs. "All right, Watchtower, let me get geared up, and let's see if we can find my unwanted shadow and get some answers."

"Not to mention give a lesson in how it's not nice to stalk someone, no matter how good he looks in green leather."

"Or out of green leather." Oliver pulls Chloe close and kisses her, hand pressing against her lower back for a second.

She smiles as she watches him head off to change. That short bit of sleep seems to have done him a world of good.

Chloe stays in touch with him throughout the patrol. Several times Oliver indicates to her that he's being followed, but each time she comes up with nothing. The stalker always seems to be out of camera range. Mutant? Someone with a rather impressive gift for invisibility, or like Clark, a gift for speed. Except even Clark leaves behind a sign—a shift in air, movement of surrounding objects—but there's nothing. Perhaps it's not a person following Oliver, but some sort of technology, something capable of blocking hers.

"Well, mystery stalker, you're pretty damn good, but in the end, I'll be better."

Except when Oliver tells her he's calling it a night, like him, she still hasn't been able to find a trace of the damn stalker.


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver flips over the railing in front of him, sticking the landing as smoothly as any gymnast. He runs down the middle of the street and then makes a sharp turn, abruptly stopping in an alcove. His breathing is controlled, offering up no sound to give him away. This time, he's going to trip the bastard up. He waits...and waits...and waits.

"Damn it." With a sigh, he slowly steps out from the alcove. The street is silent, no sign of anyone or anything, not even a stray dog. He checks in with Chloe, knowing she's going to be none too pleased that he's been in silent mode all night.

"How's it going?"

If he didn't know her as well as he does, Oliver would think she isn't the least bit annoyed that he hasn't contacted her before now. "Fine. It's a quiet night in Metropolis. Watching paint dry in the summertime would be more exciting than tonight's patrol. Not that I'm complaining."

"Really." Only Chloe can put so much sarcasm into one word. "No sign of our friend?"

"If I had managed to get a sign of our friend, you would have been the first to know. I'll be in touch later. Arrow out."

Wonderful. Nothing like being an asshole to someone who's being trying to help you and who you've only recently gotten involved with. What is wrong with him? A week and a half of being positive someone is following him but not being able to catch sight of or find any trace of that individual is driving him nuts. It's like the person dissolves into the shadows. And it isn't helping that he's sure Chloe is starting to doubt him.

_Don't you find it odd that Chloe can't find anything, no heat signatures, no pattern of air disturbance. Nothing. Perhaps it is all in your head._

No, he's not imagining things. It's not like he's having some sort of mental breakdown, because why the hell would that happen now when life is good. He just wants to find this stupid stalker, move beyond this, and then take Chloe away somewhere fun, where she can forgive him for being a complete jerk this last week.

"Really, is that too much to want?" The question is rhetorical, but it gets an answer in the form of an arrow. Oliver hears the sound and drops to the ground just in time. He feels the whoosh of it go past his left shoulder.

He pushes back up to his feet, bow in hand, but of course there's no sign of anyone. Still, a rush of excitement runs through him. The bastard tripped up this time. There will be evidence. Oliver follows the path of what should have been the arrow's trajectory, but there's nothing. He scans the entire area, but no sign of an arrow.

"Son of a bitch!" He punches the boarded up door of an abandoned building, splinters of wood slicing into his knuckles. How is this possible? Oliver rubs at the back of his head, which feels like it's about to burst. Is it possible to die from frustration, because right now he swears it's going to kill him.

He freezes as he hears sounds coming from within the building. Someone's running. Oliver pries the loose boarding off the door and carefully steps inside. Rats scramble out of his path. There's an old yellowing mattress in the corner, stuffing and springs poking out of it. The _Daily Planet_ stares up at him from the floor in the form of newspapers scattered everywhere. He sees Lois's byline and smiles, thinking he'll have to tease her about her articles being used as a form of carpeting in abandon buildings.

The sound of someone running up a set of stairs focuses his mind back on the task at hand. As he approaches the staircase, he feels a blast of heat. Oliver's moving before the fireball has made it to the top of the stairs. The fire spreads quickly, the mattress dancing with it, the newspapers kindling for its hunger. He can barely breathe as he runs low, ducking the falling beams. Stumbling out the broken door, he trips and goes flying but quickly scrambles to his feet.

The sound of an explosion rattles the ground and makes his ears pop. For a second, Oliver wonders if the deafening silence means he damaged his eardrum, until he realizes, it truly is silent. The fire is gone, and the building before him is a burned out husk. "What the hell? Clark?"

Someone must have put the fire out. But if it was Clark, surely he would have said something. Unless there was another emergency he had to get to. That had to be it. Damn, he's exhausted. For a second his eyes close, and he rubs at the back of his head. When he opens them, he contacts Chloe.

"Go ahead, Oliver."

"Our stalker was more creative, not to mention versatile, tonight."

"What does that mean? Are you all right? Do you need backup?"

"I'm fine. But I've had way too much fun for one evening, so I'm calling it night. I'll fill you in tomorrow. Night."

"Oliver...."

He's too tired to feel guilt over cutting her off, well almost too tired.

The night feels endless. It seems as if it takes him days to get back to the penthouse, and yet at the same time, he has no clear memory of how he got here, undressed in his bedroom. He collapses onto the bed, out almost instantly, but his sleep isn't restful.

_He needs to run faster. Otherwise, it'll be too late. His chest burns, his human body pushed far past its limit, but he's going to push it harder. Faster. The ground falls out from beneath him, and he's falling._

_No._

_It'll be too late._

_But there's nothing to grab onto. There's nothing to stop the fall. _

Oliver wakes, his heart pounding. He closes his eyes and thinks of Chloe, her laugh and smile, the way she feels as he guides her in target practice, and the warmth of her pressed against him. Those images calm him down. If he had been thinking, he would have just gone back to Watchtower after the patrol, but obviously his brain had left for parts unknown. Exhaustion claims him again, and he falls back to sleep.

It seems like only minutes have passed when he's once again jolted awake, heart pounding. Anger courses through him. This is ridiculous. He tosses the covers aside with such force they fall to the floor. Oliver stops, his fists clenched. He forces his eyes to close and takes deep breaths until some of the rage fades.

Calmer, he decides if he can't sleep, he might as well see what's being reported about last night's fire and explosion. As he gazes at the clock, he realizes he managed to sleep for several hours, despite what it feels like.

His calm is short lived as when he logs onto his laptop and begins searching, he finds no mention of a fire anywhere in Metropolis last night. The building was abandoned, so perhaps no one felt the need to report it. He had called it into the police, hadn't he? Shit, he doesn't remember. Oliver is about to call Clark when his phone beeps. There's a text from Chloe.

"I need you at Watchtower."

He texts back, "I'm on my way." Maybe she found something.

When he gets to Watchtower, the greeting he gets from Chloe isn't going on his top ten favorite list.

"You look like shit."

"Wow. You know you might want to work on your people skills. How about trying, 'Hi, Oliver. Thanks for responding and coming over right away. Let me tell you about what I discovered that required your immediate attention.' "

"It's what I didn't find that's got me concerned. You said the stalker was creative last night. How? Because I scoured every police log, every news source, and the only things in Metropolis that hit the radar were things Clark said he took care of."

"Did he mention the building last night—the one he put out the fire from after the explosion?" Maybe he and Clark can go back to the scene together. Clark might be able to find something in the building to give them a clue as to whom set the fire.

"No." Chloe draws out the word and stares at him. "Clark told me the only things he handled were a few burglary attempts, and a kid who locked himself out of the house and couldn't get back in because the babysitter was sound asleep. The parents definitely need to rethink that babysitter. So, want to fill me in on this fire and explosion?"

"Yeah. Let me start at the beginning."

"Always a good place to start."

He tells her about being shot at, his inability to find the arrow, and then his experiences in the abandoned building. She listens without comment, and even after he's finished, she's still quiet. Oliver doesn't want to think about what her silence means, so he quickly fills it. "It's the Toyman."

"No, it can't be him."

Oliver continues as if he hadn't heard her. "He's got to be working with someone because he's not exactly fleet on his feet."

"Oliver, listen to me. It can't be Winslow Schott. He's in solitary, and pretty much non-responsive. Don't you think one of the first things I did when you said someone was stalking you was to run a report on the whereabouts of any known enemies. I think we're approaching this in the wrong way. Something isn't right. We're coming up empty."

She doesn't believe him. The thought twists inside like a poisoned arrow. "I'm not insane. Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are."

Chloe stares at him, a stunned expression on her face. "I never said you were insane. But Oliver can't you see that you're not acting like yourself."

He shakes his head and walks off, but he's halted by the sound of her voice.

"Don't walk away from me. Why are you behaving like this?"

He hears the hurt in her voice. The sound is like a shock of cold water bringing him back to his senses. What is he doing? "Because I'm an asshole." He turns around. "Chloe, I'm sorry."

She walks over to him. "I don't need an apology. I need you to understand I'm on your side, like always."

"I know."

Chloe reaches up and presses a hand against his cheek. "To be safe, I think you should have Emil check you out."

"I'm fine." Oliver kisses her palm. "Being a jerk doesn't require medical attention."

She drops her hand with a sigh.

"Hey, listen, I know how I've been behaving. And while it's not an excuse, I haven't been sleeping well."

That news looks like it comes as no surprise to Chloe. "Ok."

"And because of that it seems like forever I've been trying to find out who this bastard is. I need to stop thinking about it. Gain some perspective. But I can't get away from it."

"It sounds like you need a little break, have some fun."

Oliver laughs, but he hears the shaky edge to it. "Sounds about right. Got anything in mind?"

"Come upstairs with me, and I'll show you."

That's an easy sell, no convincing needed.

Clothes are shed in haste. Something's different about their lovemaking this time—there's an intensity to it. No, that's not quite right. It's been intense with Chloe right from the start. He knew it would be, but it had been an intensity in desire, in taking the jump. Right now there's a thread of need in this connection that goes beyond want, and he knows it's him threading that through, but she's responding to it, making it hers as well. It's possible that it's too soon to be allowing this much emotion into things, but he doesn't care. He's never been known for restraint. Besides, as she so frequently seems to do, she somehow knows exactly what he needs, and in this instance, it's her.

He presses his mouth against her breast, feeling her arch into him. His hands on her warm skin ground him, and he let's go of it all. For now, there's just the two of them.

When he enters her, he pauses for a moment, his arms bracing his body and her legs wrapped around him. Oliver stares down at her and when he says, "Chloe," he hopes it conveys at least half of what he feels right now. The message seems to come through as Chloe leans up and kisses him, strong and fierce, a match for the overwhelming feelings inside him.

Falling is always best done together.

Afterward, he lies beside her, an arm around her waist, feeling at peace for the first time in days. Her fingers are combing through his hair.

"Ollie."

"Hmmm?" He slowly opens his eyes and smiles at her.

She smiles back and touches his arm. "I think it's time to call in some reinforcements."

Some of the languor leaves him. "What do you mean?"

"We need help figuring this one out. Let's talk to Clark and John."

Some instinctive snake wants him to argue they don't need anyone's help, but he recognizes that's an irrational response. She's right, of course, and it's a conclusion he should have come to days ago, if he'd been thinking clearly. "Ok. Time to play well with others and make it a team effort."

This time her smile is wide and brilliant, and he thinks he's just been rewarded for good behavior. And God, he might do anything just to see that smile.

"We're stronger as a team," Chloe says and kisses him. Then she curls up against him, her head on his chest.

"Yes, we are." He falls asleep holding her.


	4. Chapter 4

"That was quick." Chloe looks up in surprise as Oliver and Clark step into Watchtower. They'd only be gone for a little over an hour. "Did you find anything?"

"No." Oliver glares at Clark. "But Boy Scout, here, wasn't into being thorough today."

Clark clenches his jaw. "I went over every street you said you covered during patrol, and there was nothing. If you're sure that was the spot where the fire happened...."

"I am. I didn't imagine it, Clark."

"Whoa, someone want to fill me in on what I missed?" Chloe watches both men warily. If the tension gets any thicker, they're going to need ice cutters to get through it.

"We went back to the spot where Oliver said the fire happened, but there were no signs of a fire. There wasn't even an abandoned building in that spot."

"It was there."

"Then where did it go?"

"I don't know!" Oliver rubs at the back of his head, making the hair in that spot stick up.

Chloe frowns. He's been doing that a lot lately, rubbing at the lower back part of his head. She realizes it's only lately he's started doing that when he's frustrated. There's no time to ponder that change because right now she needs to diffuse this situation. She steps between the two men, a white flag in a war zone.

"Easy, let's calm down." She faces Oliver and frowns. He was calm and determined when he left, but now he seems even more tense. She notices his fists are clenched and they're shaking. "Clark and John will shadow you tonight, and when they do we'll catch our lurking nighttime friend. Okay?"

Oliver nods, but he doesn't meet her gaze. "I need some air." He's gone before either Chloe or Clark can object.

"What happened out there, Clark? I told you he was on edge. Would it have killed you to tone down the holier than thou attitude?"

"You don't understand. Chloe, Oliver isn't on edge. He's irrational. Something's not right with him. There's no building. And neither of you have been able to find any evidence of a stalker. All you're going on is his feeling."

"Are you saying Oliver's making this up?"

"No." Clark shakes his head. "I don't know."

All the worries lurking in her mind bubble to the surface, and it's like a nine alarm fire. "We need to find Oliver. He shouldn't be alone." She grabs her coat, putting it on as they go.

As they're leaving the building, someone calls her name. She turns and it's John. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

"We need to find Oliver. He just left Watchtower."

"Shall we split up, or do you feel it's best to search for him together."

One of the many things Chloe loves about John is how he knows when to act and hold the questions for later. "Let's split up." They've reached the corner, and she pauses intending to assign directions, but Clark interrupts her.

"Chloe." Clark's staring down the small alley that wraps around behind Watchtower.

She follows his gaze and sees the object of their search just standing there. "Oliver." He doesn't respond, and she moves closer, realizing his eyes are closed. "Oliver," she says again. When she reaches out for him, John halts her outstretched hand.

"Wait. Watch his eyes. See the movement. I think Oliver is dreaming."

Chloe realizes John's right, that's exactly what it looks like. She moves to stand in front of Oliver, but just as she does so he opens his eyes and runs past her, as if he didn't even notice her standing there. He drops to his knees and takes off his shirt. Then he scrunches it in his hand and presses down into the air, like he's partaking in some strange yoga movement.

For a moment they're all frozen watching the tableau in front of them. It's Clark who recovers first and approaches. "Oliver, what are you doing?"

"Clark, perfect timing. We need to get her to a hospital." Oliver gives Clark a pointed look.

Chloe can tell Clark has no idea what to say, so she steps past him and kneels in front of Oliver.

"Can you call 911?" he asks. "What the hell is wrong with him? She's going to die if we don't get her to a hospital soon."

"Oliver, there's no one here who needs a hospital."

"What are you talking about? She's bleeding out in front of us. God, she can't even be twenty. She passed out about 10 minutes ago."

John steps into the space between Chloe and Clark. "Oliver we need you to close your eyes for a second."

"What? We don't have time for this? Have you all gone insane?" Oliver looks down and presses his hands harder into the shirt. "I think she's waking again."

"I need you to trust me and do as John says and close your eyes." Chloe's heart aches as Oliver looks at her. There's so much anguish in his gaze, but after a second, he swallows, and then does as she asks.

She looks to John who nods. "Now open them."

By the shocked looked on Oliver's face, Chloe knows he now realizes there's no one on the ground. "What the...." As he stumbles to his feet, she stands and reaches for him, but he pulls away and walks in circles. "Where did she? How?"

This time she succeeds in grabbing his arm and stilling his movement. "It's ok."

"No it's not. I'm insane."

"I don't think you've come to the right conclusion," John says. "When we came upon you it was as if you were sleeping on your feet, dreaming. And when you came awake, it was as if you were still in that dream, except able to interact with us. You were blending both the dream and the reality, perfectly aware of your surroundings. In my experience that is not something humans naturally do when in a sleep state. So therefore, I conclude something has been done to you."

Chloe's very grateful for John's calm surety for she can see hope in Oliver's eyes.

"He's right." Clark squeezes Oliver's shoulder. "We need to get you to Emil to find out what's going on."

Oliver nods, but his jaw is clenched and Chloe can feel the tremors going through him. His breathing is becoming harsh.

"How did you know closing his eyes would bring him out of it?" Clark asks John.

"I did not. I made what you call an educated guess that the act of closing his eyes would be enough to force his brain to break the dream state."

"Good guess."

"Guys." Chloe's voice is tense. "Ollie." Oliver doesn't respond, and he starts to shudder as if he's convulsing and then his eyes close, but this time he doesn't remain upright, his knees buckle. Chloe tries to brace his taller frame, but it's a futile effort. Luckily Clark catches Oliver before he hits the ground.

"Call Emil. I'll take him to Metropolis General if Emil can meet us there."

Chloe pulls her phone out of her pocket and has Emil briefed in seconds. "He'll be there in 5."

Her hair is tossed in the sudden breeze, and Clark is gone with Oliver.

John puts a hand on her shoulder. "Oliver will be fine. We'll figure it out."

"I hope so." And whoever did this better hope so as well, because God help them when she finds them. "Let's get to the hospital."


	5. Chapter 5

When Oliver steps into Watchtower, it's strangely silent and dark. There's no hum of computers or glow of monitors. "Chloe." He gets no response. All his senses are on alert as he steps through their headquarters, which looks as if someone has cut out its heart, living behind only an empty shell.

He finds Chloe on the second floor, lying in a pool of blood with two arrows in her chest. Oliver drops to his knees, blood soaking through his jeans. He can't feel her pulse. "Chloe." Her name comes out on a strangled sob as he touches her hair.

"Oliver."

She's alive! Except when he looks at the woman on the floor, her eyes are closed and she's still lifeless. It's only his imagination.

"Oliver. It's okay. It's not real. Listen to me. Whatever it is—it's not real."

What's going on? That's Chloe. He knows it.

"Chloe!" Oliver shouts. The fog is so thick he can't see his own hand. He calls her name again. They'll have to find each other by sound. The fog lifts slightly, and he can see the outline of her figure. "Chloe." He reaches for her, but as he does she and the fog disappear.

He's standing in a maze. What? Mia. He has to find Mia. Don't let her be hurt because of him. So much for protecting her and offering her a chance at a better life. If she's hurt, he's never going to forgive himself. She's just a kid. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into his personal mess. He runs, trying to find her in the maze. His feet fly so fast the grass is a green blur. Eventually, he realizes the maze has shifted, and he's running in circles.

Oliver stops and looks at the circle of bushes in dismay. Hands on his knees, he breathes heavily. He needs help. One by one, he tries to contact his friends—Chloe, Clark, John, Bart, AC, Victor, Dinah—but there's no answer. He tries Lois, hoping he can keep her from getting involved, keep her safe, while getting her help finding Chloe and Clark, but there's no answer from her either. Where is everyone?

It's dark now, and it's cold.

"Oliver." Oh, thank God, it's Clark.

"Boy Scout, where are you?"

"I don't know. But I'm trapped."

"Hold on. I'm coming."

When he turns the corner, he stares in horror. Clark is trapped in what looks to be an immense ice prison. Except, he's sure it's not really ice, because ice doesn't glow that way, but he has no other point of reference for what he's seeing. It's all so alien that he can't get his mind around it. He doesn't know what to do.

"Clark, what is this? What happened to you?"

Clark answers, and Oliver nods as if he understands, but Clark's words make no sense. It's all disjointed sound.

"We need Chloe."

Now that he understands. God how he wishes she was here with him. "I can't find her, but don't worry, I'll figure it out."

"Oliver."

Relief floods him. "Chloe, where are you? Clark needs our help."

The ice spins before his eyes, a dizzying assault of crystal and blinding whiteness. He's falling, but then he feels her hand grabbing his. He holds on tight, and the movement stops.

"Chloe." His voice sounds raw, and it hurts to swallow.

"I'm right here."

Something is pressed against his lip.

"Take a sip. It'll make your throat feel better."

He realizes it's a straw, and he eagerly does as she suggests. The cool water soothing his throat.

"Thanks. What's going on?"

"You're recovering from someone hurting you. You're fine. There's nothing to worry about."

Except there was. "I couldn't find you. I heard you, but I couldn't find you."

"I've been right here. I'm not going anywhere. Me, here, that's real. Ok? Believe me."

"I do." His response is a whisper as he's too tired to move his lips or keep his eyes open.

"He's through the worst of it. His brain activity is back in the normal range." That's Emil's voice.

"Oliver will be all right?" John's here too.

"Yes."

"That's good, really good." Clark sounds relieved, like he does after he's been very worried.

Nothing makes sense, and trying to figure it out is only making his head ache. He can sleep now, and Chloe will fill him in later. His friends are here, and they'll have it under control, whatever it is. Oliver falls asleep with Chloe's hand clasped in his.


	6. Chapter 6

Chloe texts Clark information on another potential victim, a girl at Met U who suddenly succumbed to paranoid delusions and had to be institutionalized. So far that's potentially 15 other people some bastard was using as test subjects over the past month. Now if they could only locate their mad scientist.

Oliver makes a sound, a soft noise, but it still makes her jump in worry. She puts aside her laptop and stands. Even though her chair is right next to his hospital bed, and her computer is monitoring his vitals, it's not enough. She needs to be where she can clearly see the expression on his face. There's no change from when she looked 15 minutes ago. He's sleeping peacefully. Chloe's concerned by how long he's been sleeping, but Emil says it's natural, his body and mind recovering from the trauma.

She touches his hand for a second and then returns to her laptop and the search for other victims.

"So I take it I'm not insane."

The relief that floods her at seeing Oliver awake and smiling overwhelms her. "Well except for insanely gorgeous." It's a cheesy thing to say, but she doesn't regret it because Oliver laughs, and the sound of his laugher is the best cure for the tension she's been living with for days.

She walks over and gives him a kiss. "It's good to see you awake."

"How long have I been out for?"

"Four days."

"Whoa." Oliver fumbles for the controls on the bed, raising it so he's more upright. "Care to give me an update."

Chloe lowers the bar on the bed, so that she can sit next to Oliver, resting her hand next to his as she talks. "Remember the night when you got hit on the head and thought you'd been played by some gang kid."

"Yeah."

"Well I think that's when this all started. Emil found and removed a chip that had been implanted in your brain."

Oliver reaches to touch the back of his head.

"Don't worry, he shaved barely any of your hair. He's that good. I had noticed you touching your head a lot. I should have guessed something like this had happened."

"From me touching my head? I think you're asking too much even from you. So what did the chip do?"

"Ah my patient is awake." They both turned toward Emil as he enters. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Actually better than I've felt in what seems like a really long time. I actually feel well-rested. Although four days sounds like overkill in the rest department."

"Trust your doctor, you needed it. And now that you're awake perhaps Chloe will see fit to leave this room for more than five minutes. Personal hygiene is important, Chloe, and I don't think you've showered in days."

Chloe glares at him. "You know that's not true. There's a shower in the room." Of course she's just confirmed she hasn't left here in days. She feels herself blushing.

Oliver squeezes her hand. Meeting his gaze, she feels slightly less embarrassed. He addresses his question to Emil, but he keeps his eyes on her. "So I hear you removed an intruder from my brain. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I take it you'd like to know what the chip's function was." Emil's gaze takes in their clasped hands, and his lips curve into a small smile before returning to a neutral expression. Chloe knows he'll be making a comment later.

"Yes."

"It was sending information to your brain that served as stimuli. Then it recorded your physiological responses, and we suspect it was sending off that data to someone."

Chloe nods. "I'm sure of it, and I'm working on tracking how that was done and where the data was being received."

Oliver frowned. "So you're saying this chip was responsible for my believing someone was following me. That it made me think I was in a burning building. And someone was recording it all as if it was a homemade movie."

Emil shook his finger, like a professor giving a lecture. "Yes and no. The device was responsible for making your brain believe you were coming into contact with certain stimuli, but it wasn't recording what you were experiencing, just your body's reaction to those experiences. Nor was it controlling what you were seeing in that mental landscape. Your brain was suddenly overloaded with stimuli, and to compensate, it sent you into essentially what was a dream state, in which your mind supplied the material to create the world you experienced."

"So I've been living one long ass mega nightmare." Oliver sighed. "Well I guess it could have been worse."

"It could have been a lot worse." Chloe hears the anger in her voice. "You weren't the only one this was done to. So far potentially 15 people in addition to you have had a chip implanted. Emil has already successfully removed chips from four of those."

Emil looks grim. "And unfortunately we were too late with two of them. They died of aneurysms."

"Died?" Oliver removes his hand from Chloe's, and she knows he's seconds away from wanting to leave the hospital. "Having first hand experience with the effects of this chip, I know how it messes with you, but dying from what, a waking nightmare?"

"I don't think I have to tell you the human brain is a fascinating, complicated organ. Someone seriously underestimated just how much a brain could take, and obviously that limit can vary per person."

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest. "Or they just didn't give a damn."

"That's a possibility as well," Emil says.

"So any luck finding our Dr. Evil?"

"While I haven't been able to figure out yet where that data was being sent, I did manage to get a capture from a security camera of the boy you caught engaging in a breaking and entering attempt. While the image is fuzzy, I was able to clear it up enough to get a decent visual. Clark and John are searching for him."

"No flies on you Sidekick."

Chloe smiles. "I try." Her smile turns to a frown. They should have found the monster by now.

"Since I feel fine. I might as well help out with the search. Want to grab me a change of clothes?"

Chloe raises an eyebrow in amusement. As if Emil is going to let him go that easily. The doctor's response is predictable.

"Absolutely not. I know you lot like to throw caution to the wind, but sometimes it's a necessary measure. Need I remind you that people died from that device. I want you under my observation for at least two more days. Now I have other patients to check on. I'll be back later, and you will be here."

They watch him leave in silence, but as soon as the door shuts, Oliver's giving her puppy eyes. "Chloe, you've got to talk to him."

"Really."

"Come on. I'd prefer not to have to stage a breakout, but I can't stay in here doing nothing for two or more days."

"All right, I'll talk to him. But I think it would be a good idea if you at least stayed put for the rest of the day. Why don't you try being awake for several hours before deciding you're going stir crazy."

"Fine. I suppose it won't hurt to stay the night."

"There you go."

"You look tired. You should go home and get some sleep. Although, I'm betting when you leave here, you're just going to head to Watchtower. Since you're making me stay here, I should get to insist you go get some sleep."

"Interesting idea." As she really doesn't want to argue that point, Chloe switches topics. "Mia's come by several times. She's been really worried. The media believes you were mugged, although I don't think Mia's bought that story."

"I'll give her a call. Do I want to know what the headlines are for my mugging."

"Nope."

"Great."

"Oh, and Mercer the Merciless came by once."

"And?"

"Nothing. It was a thankfully brief visit."

She can feel Oliver's gaze on her. "Really, nothing happened. She came by, asked a few questions and left."

"She probably needed to update the board on my status. Did...."

Oliver's question is consigned to oblivion as the whirlwind that is her cousin breezes into the room. "I leave you people for two weeks and look what happens. Ollie are you all right? The _Planet_ was reporting that you had been brutally beaten and were in a coma."

"I'm fine. Obviously I'm not in a coma, and do I look like I've been brutally beaten?"

"No, someone got the story very wrong. Really, is accuracy too much to ask for these days?"

"Listen, I've got some errands to run." Chloe packs up her laptop. "I'll be back later, Oliver." She needs two hours at Watchtower max, and then she'll head back here.

"Thanks Chloe. See you soon."

As she reaches the door, she turns back and he gives her a forlorn look. Chloe almost laughs, instead she silently mouths, "Be good and I'll see what I can do about breaking you out."

Noticing Oliver's smirk, Lois turns around with a frown. "Are you making faces behind my back Chloe? I thought you gave that up when we were 13."

Oliver laughs, and Chloe decides that's definitely her exit cue.

"Bye Lois. I'll see you later Oliver."


	7. Chapter 7

As he walks through the vacant warehouse with Clark and John, Oliver can't help thinking about the abandoned building with the fire. While he knows none of that was real, his mind still tells him otherwise. Emil had warned him of the possibility of his brain categorizing some of the more vivid, detailed hallucinations he'd experienced as memories. That had been a doozy of a conversation.

_"Call off Chloe. I'll release you."_

_Oliver tries to restrain his grin. Emil's usual composure is definitely frayed. _

_"But I do so with reservations. I believe some of the things you only experienced mentally, your brain viewed as generated from external stimuli and therefore interprets those as experiences not dreams."_

_He can feel the thread of panic beginning to pulse and clamps down on it, forcing his voice to remain calm. "Are you saying even with the chip removed I may still experience hallucinations?"_

_"No. I'm saying some of the previous hallucinations may feel like memories. Oliver, I think you should ease back into things. Take it slow. I anticipate you'll go through a period where you may doubt reality."_

He of course had been cocky and scoffed the sooner he got back into the swing of things, the quicker it would all be behind him. As Oliver watches a rat scurry along a side wall, he gets a mental flash of a fireball travelling down a staircase toward him. He no longer feels like scoffing. What if this isn't real either? Maybe he's lying in a hospital or institution somewhere locked in his own mind dreaming all this. Or maybe, the rest was real, and he almost figured it out, and now this isn't real.

Oliver takes a deep breath and looks toward Clark. The big guy seems as real as ever with no sense of humor in situations like these. He has to stop thinking along these lines, because it will drive him insane.

A soft beep indicates an incoming communication from Watchtower, and then Chloe's voice is coming through. "M.P.K. Inc. is a bit of a financial mystery. You are currently walking through one of eleven unused, in rather poor condition, warehouses they own. Considering they only own thirteen in total, it's a bit of a miracle how profitable their organization is. I'm flagging for future follow-up."

Oliver smiles. He knows Chloe's not expecting a response right now. She's just reminding him that she's there. How she guesses the exact moment he needs such a reminder, he'll never figure out, but it's a talent he's glad she possesses.

He steps around a puddle and glances up at the leaky roof. Chloe wasn't kidding about poor condition. His steps are more confident and there are no more flashes of fake memories. Emil had said he might feel like this, and the doctor is usually right. But Oliver knows he was also right in that it's best to just jump right back in and let things sort themselves out. Besides, it's not like he's doing it alone.

They find the kid he'd stopped from breaking into the pizza shop curled up in the far corner of the warehouse, his head resting on his knees. It had been Clark working not as the Blur, but in his _Daily Planet_ reporter mode, who'd been able to get the street kids to talk and reveal the kid's identity—Alex Habashin. From what Clark learned, Alex had gone off the deep end over the last few weeks. It sure sounds like he may be another victim of their Dr. Evil.

Clark and John hang back in the shadows as Oliver approaches. "Alex." His altered voice sounds even deeper echoing in the empty warehouse.

The kid stumbles to his feet, arms out in front of him as if he can ward off danger. "No. I'm sorry, please, just make it stop. I'll do what you want. I didn't know."

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. And whatever is happening to you, I'm not responsible. But I can help you. Alex, I need you to tell me what happened that night we met, after I got knocked out."

"I wouldn't have done it if I had known he meant the Green Arrow."

"Who's he?"

Alex glances up at him eyes wide and fearful. He presses his hands hard against the wall as if he might be able to push himself through the concrete and disappear. Oliver knows his first instincts about this kid were right—a lost soul in need of help. Except, he realizes he doesn't recognize Alex at all. The curly hair, the brown eyes, and thin sharp chin, none of those details are familiar. When Chloe had showed him the photo, he had shrugged saying maybe that was the kid, but now he realizes it's odd how little detail he remembers from that moment. Had their mad scientist counted on that, or is he being paranoid?

"Alex, please tell me what happened that night." It's hard to come across as comforting as the Green Arrow, but he tries. Perhaps they should have let Clark do this as a reporter, but there was a surety to making Alex face the hero he'd helped to be attacked.

"He offered me a $100 if I pretended I was trying to break into the pizza joint on Diamond Alley. He said it would draw the attention of someone he wanted to chat with. I asked him how he'd know the guy he wanted would show. He didn't make a lot of sense, something about averages and analysis making it likely. I'm sorry, I didn't ask a lot of questions. I needed the money. You understand, I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I do understand. Go on."

"The man came up behind you while you were talking to me. In his hand was something that looked like some sort of pen. Except when he hit you with it, you dropped like a rock. You were out cold. Then he placed the device on the back of your head, and it made this horrible sound. I was so scared, I ran."

"That's ok. I know it must have been very scary. Did he chase you when you ran?"

"I don't think so. I...things don't make sense lately. I woke up several blocks away, but I don't remember falling asleep, but lately I see things that the others don't see. I thought it was punishment for leaving you there. I should have gotten help."

"It's all right. For the last few weeks, I was seeing things that weren't there as well. I think what that man did to me, he also did to you. But I know a doctor who was able to fix what was done, and he can help you too. I just need to ask you one more question before we go to see him. Do you remember what the man looks like?"

Alex closes his eyes, face tense in concentration. When he opens them, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Green Arrow, but I can't picture him. I think he was tall."

"It's okay."

"Wait, I do remember something from when he offered me the money. He was wearing dog tags."

"Dog tags?"

"Yes, but they didn't have a name on them. Just these strange symbols."

Oliver shoots a glance over his shoulder toward Clark. If Clark's Kandorian Glee Club is somehow involved in what happened, things have just gone from bad to worse. He's sure Chloe heard that detail and the fury of Watchtower is already building exponentially.

"Come on. Let's get you some help."

As they take Alex to Emil, outside of talking to the boy, each man is pretty much silent. Chloe was also brief when he contacted her and let her know they were dropping the boy off to be treated. The firestorm won't happen until they're back at Watchtower.

In this calm before the storm, Oliver tries to wrap his mind around how he feels about the possibility of a Kandorian having attacked him. As usual when it comes to Clark's Kryptonian heritage, he feels like he's playing way out of his league. What's going on is so beyond his experience. He wonders, though, how much of this is actually beyond Clark's experience as well. For all his training at the Fortress, how much can Clark truly know and understand of Krypton. He's heard the ache in Clark's voice when he talks about wishing to know things first hand from his father. Clark's fumbling his way through this just like the rest of them. The problem is Oliver doubts his friend always sees it that way.

Chloe's waiting for them when they return, and she wastes no time lighting into Clark. "Are you convinced yet that we need to take out Zod and the rest of the Kandorians? "

"Lots of people wear dog tags, Chloe. I think you're jumping to conclusions."

Her laughter holds no amusement. "You're unbelievable. You think Metropolis is full of people wearing dog togs with funny symbols who know how to trigger paranoid delusions by implanting a chip and leaving behind no visible mark to the skin. Wow, I totally missed that demographic in the last census. A Kandorian attacked Oliver, and still you defend them."

"Even if it was a Kandorian, you can't blame them all for what one individual did. There's a lot of disagreement amongst them. That's what I've been taking advantage of, convincing them to start new lives here and step out from Zod's shadow. I'm earning their trust. Being here on Earth is a lot for them to get used to. But not all of them trust me. It could be someone who hasn't been willing to listen. If it is a Kandorian, let's find out which Kandorian is responsible." Chloe seems unmoved by Clark's words, and he shakes his head and turns his gaze from her. "Oliver, you know I wouldn't stand by while someone hurt my friends, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Chloe...." She doesn't let him finish. He meets John's gaze and shrugs. John so far seems to have more common sense than he does and is letting Chloe and Clark battle it out.

Chloe walks over to Clark and glares up at him. "Do you have any idea how far out of your league you are with Zod? He's a clone of the man who destroyed Krypton. I'm sure you haven't forgotten that bit of knowledge. That's what he's capable of. He's a general, a conqueror. He doesn't accept defeat. He's going to conquer all over your moralistic, naive attempts at reconciliation."

Clark glares right back at her. "You're not listening. Have you forgotten about innocent until proven guilty? The Kandorians deserve that consideration. And I never said I trusted Zod. Not yet. Give me more credit than that."

"I will when you deserve it."

"Ok, fighters to your corners. How about we calm down because this isn't accomplishing anything." Oliver touches Chloe's arm, but she pulls away from him. "Clark, man, I know you have my back, and I hear you on keeping an open mind on the Kandorians, but I have to ask, how well do you know these people? No, that's not the right question. How well do you understand these people?"

John finally decides to wade into the argument, and Oliver's grateful for the support. "He's right Kal-El, the world they were raised in is very different from that of Martha and Jonathan Kent. You would be wise to remember that."

"I know."

Oliver still isn't sure Clark truly does get how different he is from the Kandorians, but now is not the time to try to crack that nut. "So where do we go from here?"

"Let me to talk to Zod."

Chloe sniffs derisively.

"Do you think he'll give you an honest answer?" John asks.

"He may, but even if he evades, I should still be able to get some information from him that will help us."

Oliver doubts that, but it's obvious Zod is the place where Clark feels he needs to start, and he bets once Clark realizes that's a dead end, he'll find the right places to begin and won't let go until he uncovers the truth. It's a good gamble. "Okay, let's start with Zod. Let us know what you find out."

When Clark looks at him gratefully, Oliver knows he made the right call. "I'll be in contact soon. Oliver, I won't stop until we find out who's responsible for what was done to you and the others."

Oliver clasps Clark's arm. "Good."

"Would you like assistance dealing with Zod?"

Oliver's not surprised when Clark declines John's offer.

"No, I've got it. I'll see you." Clark speeds off.

"Is there anything we should be doing in the meantime?" John addresses his question to Chloe, but she just shrugs.

"The ball's in Clark's court for now, so let's wait to see what he finds out," Oliver says.

"Let me know when you need me."

"Thanks John." He really does envy the super speed of his friends.

Chloe is disturbingly quiet. As he's putting away his gear, he takes the risk of reigniting the firestorm by saying, "You were a bit harsh with Clark, don't you think?"

"No."

"Chloe."

"I have no doubt Clark's intentions are good, but sometimes the worst things happen from the best intentions."

Oliver sighs. "Yeah, they do, but that's why Clark has us. Why we have each other. To provide perspective, talk us down from the ledges and bad choices."

"Forgive me if I don't find that reassuring. We don't have the best track record as team players, and every day is one day closer to that tower going on line, and one day closer to a world without a yellow sun where Clark will be powerless."

"That future is not going to happen, and we're getting better at the team thing." Oliver closes the panel over his bow.

"How can you tell? If there's improvement, it's miniscule. And our glacial approach to developing team spirit is not going to be in time to save the world from being crushed beneath Zod's footprint."

"You were all there for me. The moment you asked for Clark and John's help, they were there." She doesn't respond. He sprawls onto the couch and motions for her to join him. "Come here, you look tired."

"I'm fine."

"Come here."

She sits next to him with a sigh, and he pulls her to him. Her head against his chest feels so right and natural.

"So is this calm you're exuding a front or have you found a sense of Zen?"

"I guess you could say I've found a sense of Zen. I'm feeling remarkably mellow. Want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Well first after spending nearly two weeks out of my mind, I feel completely normal again, or as normal as I ever was."

"Which isn't very normal."

"Hey no interruptions from the peanut gallery. And that is not the main reason for my contentment." It's on the tip of Oliver's tongue to say, "you are," but it feels too soon, so instead, he says, "My sense of Zen is because I've got friends I can count on. You were there for me when I needed you."

"Of course we were."

"I think that makes me very lucky. Don't you? And you know what else I think? That we're really close to uncovering the identity of our Dr. Evil and getting him off the streets."

"Optimist."

"You say that like it's a dirty word." Oliver kisses the top of her head. "Clark's not going to let us down, Chloe. Whether it's a Kandorian or not, he won't stop until he figures out the truth."

"I know."

For a while they sit there silently, then Oliver slowly undoes two buttons on Chloe's shirt.

"What do you think you're doing?" He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Being an optimist and pressing my luck."

"I'd say you had an excellent chance of remaining lucky if it weren't for the likelihood of Clark super speeding back in here at any moment."

Oliver slides his hand inside Chloe's bra, caressing her breast. "Oh Clark's not going to be back anytime soon."

Chloe sits up and looks at him. He smiles, enjoying the view.

"Spill. What do you know?"

"That Zod is not giving Clark one ounce of useful information. That means Clark is going to need to go around to the individual Kandorians and convince them to not only trust him, but to also essentially tattle on one of their fellow Kandorians. I have full confidence that he will get the information he needs, but it's going to take time. He's gone for hours at least."

"So why didn't you tell him just to skip Zod and start with the other Kandorians?"

"Because sometimes the grasshopper must come to the conclusion on his own."

Chloe laughs. "Astute and well played, Arrow. I'm impressed."

"As you should be. So, how about helping me out of this leather?"

"Now what girl can resist a line like that?"


	8. Chapter 8

It's actually the next afternoon before Clark returns. Chloe's shocked by his pallor and subdued manner. "Are you all right?"

Clark doesn't answer that question. "It was a Kandorian. His name was Sadat."

"Was?"

"He's dead."

"And I'm guessing by your reaction you found him, and it wasn't pretty."

"Yes."

"Okay, Clark why don't you sit down." He lets her guide him to a chair and puts his head in his hands. "Let's start from the beginning."

"Can you contact Oliver and John? They should hear this too, and I'd rather only tell it once."

"Of course." She rests her hand against his back for a moment before going off to do as he asks.

The wait for Oliver and John is a silent one. She wishes for a way to comfort Clark, because whatever happened has really shaken him, but someone has to trust you for you to be able to offer them comfort in a situation like this. Whether she likes it or not, the reality is Clark and her don't have that same bond of trust anymore. It's moments like this when her walls come down just enough that she mourns the loss of being Clark's key confidant and best friend. Most days Chloe doesn't allow herself such a lapse. It is what it is. Clark puts those he cares about on pedestals, and she was bound to fall eventually. And perhaps she's guilty of having done the same—expecting far too much of Clark. That naïveté is long gone. She can't turn back the clock.

Oliver is first through the door, but John is right behind him. "Clark are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Oliver. Thanks."

"You don't look fine."

Clark stands. "I found who was responsible. It was a Kandorian. His name was Sadat."

"Why don't you outline what happened since you left us yesterday." John's voice is soft.

"Ok." Clark takes a breath. "I tracked down Zod, and he claimed no knowledge of what happened. I couldn't get anything out of him, not even a hint of who amongst the Kandorians might have the ability to create such a device."

Chloe exchanged a quick look with Oliver. He'd called that one.

"So I went looking for some of the Kandorians who've begun to trust me. It took a bit, but eventually they told me of Sadat, a scientist and a soldier, who served with them, but had never been on Zod's good side. He'd gone off on his own, and they'd expected to never see him again. Except, he resurfaced about a month ago and tried to recruit some of them to work on an experiment with him. He said it would grant them the knowledge they needed to survive amongst the humans, and perhaps some answers to how their powers beneath a yellow sun had been denied to them. No one took him up on his offer. They described him as odd. Faora even went so far as to say she felt he had no honor. He was also living in Suicide Slum, not a place they found inviting."

"That's putting it mildly," Oliver says. "So I take it you were able to track Sadat down."

"Yeah, he was living in the basement of a tenement, but I was too late. Someone had killed him."

"And you found the body. I'm sorry, Clark."

"I took the remains to Zod."

"Whoa, the remains?" Oliver frowned.

"Someone had chopped off his head. Zod claimed the death wasn't his fault."

"But you don't believe that." Chloe didn't need Clark to confirm her statement, but he did so anyway.

"No. Oliver, these were taped onto one of the basement walls." Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out several folded papers and handed them to Oliver. "They're newspaper articles about the Green Arrow, as well as some illustrations. I'm guessing he was trying to draw you. Nothing I found seemed to indicate that he had any idea you were Oliver Queen. In the pile, there's also some basic information on the other victims, mostly just name and age."

"Why the obsession with me?"

"I'm not sure. If he had a computer someone removed it. But there is a sheet of paper in there that I found, and on it, someone had written, 'the key lies in discovering the triggers in both the weakest and the strongest of humans.' My guess is he saw you as representing humanity at its strongest."

"I'm not exactly sure how to take that one." Oliver looks disturbed.

"What I don't get is why he would make the assumption the Green Arrow is human. For all he knew, you could have been an alien like him." Chloe took some of the newspaper clippings from Oliver and started to look them over.

"I don't think the guy was playing with a full deck." Oliver handed her an illustration that gave the impression of the Green Arrow as a mighty green giant, towering over the people beneath him.

"Or he got confirmation you were human when he hijacked your brain."

"The Kandorians I spoke with gave me the impression they thought he was unstable." Clark held out a small box and handed it to Chloe. "There are two pen-sized rods in there. They fit the description Alex gave us about the device Sadat used on Oliver."

Chloe opened the box carefully. "Now that was a fortuitous find."

"A little too fortuitous." John peered over Chloe's shoulder. Frowning as he looked at the rods. He turned to Clark. "If Zod is responsible for Sadat's death, why leave the body and these bits of evidence for you to find?"

"As proof that he had nothing to do with Sadat's experiments."

"But leaving you the evidence to see he'd executed a man was okay?" Oliver glanced warily at the box Chloe held.

John answers instead of Clark. "Because to Zod the death was a just one. He told Clark the death wasn't his fault, not that he hadn't killed the man. Sadat's actions were without honor and outside Zod's wishes, so perhaps in Zod's mind, Sadat brought his death upon himself."

"Justice, a dish best served with ice in your veins." Chloe regrets the snarky remark as soon as it leaves her lips as Clark winces.

Oliver squeezes Clark's shoulder. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry you got caught up in all this Oliver."

"Not your fault. I've always attracted my share of attention, including the occasional psycho. It's a liability that goes with the job."

They spend the next hour reviewing the papers Clark brought back. Chloe notifies Emil of four more people who most likely were affected. At least six of the victims were street kids like Alex. Chloe has a feeling Sadat tried more than once to lure the Green Arrow to a spot where he could attack him.

Emil arrives to get a look at the device and give her an update on the search for the newly identified victims. Clark, John and Oliver each suddenly have an excuse for needing to leave once her and Emil begin to go through his notes on how the chip was interacting with the brain. The two of them spend hours looking at the device, but it's not giving up its secrets on an initial reveal. It's going to take more than a few hours to peal back the layers of that technology.

That night Oliver comes by and asks her out to dinner. He's extremely light hearted, and his mood is contagious. It feels sort of like a first date, which is somewhat backwards considering they're all ready sleeping together. And yet, somehow that fits for them. Normal is overrated. Oliver skips patrol, instead spending the evening with her. She feels both grateful and guilty. She's not supposed to be a distraction.

However, once they're in bed, naked against each other, his mouth finding pleasure spots she didn't know she had, all she feels is incredibly lucky.

Oliver spends the night and his doing so is still new enough that it feels odd. Although it's a welcome oddness. She likes his warmth next to her and the rhythm of his breathing. And yet Chloe can't fall asleep. Thoughts of the future torment her. While the future Lois witnessed may not come to pass, there's no guarantee that the one they're heading toward now is any better.

Chloe knows Oliver is right. She's being too harsh with Clark, handling the situation poorly, but she can't help it. When you've known Clark Kent as long as she has, you can see the warning signs of his moral compass about to direct him onto a well intended course of catastrophic action. And this time that's no exaggeration. The world as they know it is at stake. The risks just keeping getting greater, and sometimes she feels as if she's the only one on the team who comprehends what they're up against.

However, she does need to tone it down with Clark. Help him out while still preparing for the worst, because someone has to buy the earth some insurance. Chloe sits up and gazes down at Oliver. She wishes she could confide in him about all of this, tell him of her plans, but he's hasn't quite come to the same conclusion she has. Not yet. She's sure he will reach that point, and when he does, she'll fill him in. Right now, though, he's been through enough. Still, she can't wait too long. Time's ticking.

"You think too loudly." Oliver's voice is muffled by the pillow.

She laughs. "Sorry."

He reaches up and pulls her down. She collapses awkwardly against him with a giggle. Oliver kisses her cheek. "Sleeping is a good activity."

"Go back to it then. I'll join you."

"Ok."

With a smile, she closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep in a few minutes. In her dreams, the sun glows red.


End file.
